Daughter of the Merciful Deep by Leslye Penelope: Review by Alex Brown

Daughter of the Merciful Deep, Leslye Penelope (Redhook 978-0-31637-822-2, $25.99, 416pp, hc) June 2024.

When she was 11, Jane Edwards was pulled into a murder investigation. Soon after, her older sister Grace’s sweetheart, Rob, was lynched and the rest of the Black residents of Earnestville were driven out of town by a white mob. As they fled, Jane nearly drowned, and although she was saved, her voice was lost. Now it’s 1935 and she and her father have been safely ensconced in Awenasa, an all-Black town founded by a formerly enslaved man. But their haven is under threat. State engineers are building a dam, and at first rain their town will be flooded out to create a reservoir. The residents refuse to leave, and the engineers refuse to either redirect the flooding or fairly compensate them for their losses. Then a stranger with the face of a dead man comes to town.

The stranger, who calls himself Moses, offers them magic and miracles, but Jane and Daniel, the son of the town’s founder, know it’s more than big talk. Moses shows them how to cast small spells and hints at another world full of magic and gods. To save Awenasa, Jane must travel to this other realm and fight for her community. She must face down resentful ancestors, stubborn gods, and her own guilt about a terrible secret she’s kept hidden since she was a child. If she can’t let go of the things holding her back, Awenasa is doomed.

First and foremost, we have to talk about the disability issue in Leslye Penelope’s Daughter of the Merciful Deep. In the beginning, Jane is mostly mute. She can vocalize, but her voice is whispery and raspy. A deaf man teaches her sign language, and eventually most locals learn enough signs to have simple conversations with her. She supplements this with a notepad for longer or more complex conversations. The only person who tries to make her feel bad about her disability is her sister. Grace refuses to read Jane’s notes or learn to sign, and when Jane does try to speak, Grace taunts her for not being louder. For readers, it’s clear that Grace’s ableism is a problem and that Jane doesn’t like it. Jane is fine with her disability, and so is everyone else. Daniel appreciates that she signs so much because he has some kind of learning disability that makes reading a challenge.

For the first two-thirds of the book, Penelope handles Jane’s disability with respect and sensitiv­ity. It was refreshing as a reader to have a book with a disabled main character in a world that mostly welcomes and accommodates her. However, it goes off the rails toward the end. I try not to spoil books I review, but in this instance I’m going to make an exception. Jane’s disability is “fixed” with magic, and everyone seems relieved she’s “normal” now. Also frustrating, the deaf man who was so important to Jane’s character in the beginning more or less vanishes from the plot toward the end.

Much of the plot revolves around the idea of the Black utopia. While it sounds good on the surface, it’s not without its problems. Let’s take Wakanda, for example. As noted many times in Black Pan­ther and Wakanda Forever, hoarding wealth and advancements while your cousins suffer under systemic oppression may turn out good for you personally, but it isn’t being in community with the rest of the diaspora. The residents of New Ilé were offered a Black utopia by the gods, and took it for an understandable reason: survival. If the folks of Awenasa get what they want, they will survive but the system will win and the oppressors’ reign of terror over Black folks on Earth will continue unabated. They will lose the land but gain privilege. They will keep their personal community but lose the community of the diaspora. Is that a trade worth taking?

What I appreciated about the ending was how Penelope mirrored the two subplots. The subplot in New Ilé has thematic resonance to the subplot in the real world. Awenasa has to use its community bond to save itself, whereas the occupants of New Ilé are fractured and isolated. Both groups must overcome their cultural and social divides in order to save each other.

Where Penelope really shines is in establish­ing an interesting historical setting. Awenasa is a fully realized town, with a realistic history. In her Author’s Note, Penelope writes about how Awenasa was modeled on all-Black communities like Beulahland and Kowaliga in Alabama and Oscarville in Georgia, this last now at the bottom of Lake Lanier. Jane and Rob’s relationship is also partly inspired by real events. In September 1912, a white woman was raped and murdered. A sixteen-year-old Black boy, Ernest Knox, was accused and threatened into confessing. Several other Black locals were rounded up. A mob of white people surrounded the jail, and lynched Rob Edwards. Knox and his cousin two years older than him, Oscar Daniel, were tried and convicted shortly thereafter. They were hanged, despite hangings and public executions both being illegal in the county.

Penelope is also great at developing characters. Jane is a complex figure carrying a lot of guilt and harboring painful secrets. Her romance with Daniel is fairly tepid, but as a character he sparkles with charm. Even the side characters leap off the page: New George with his rigid pragmatism, The Ruth with his sour demeanor, Miss Helen and her strength and resoluteness, Reverend Edwards and his compassion, Abner and his crotchetiness. The care and effort Penelope put into the characters is obvious. My desire to spend time with them far outweighed my other issues (well, except for the disability stuff).

Daughter of the Merciful Deep is an emotional story full of heart and adventure. It’s the kind of book best read while relaxing in the shade on a hot summer’s day. Leslye Penelope has an eye for historical fiction that many readers will find com­pelling. Despite some weaknesses, it’s an enjoyable, engaging read that sheds light on an overlooked part of our history.

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Alex Brown is a librarian, author, historian, and Hugo-nominated and Ignyte award-winning critic who writes about speculative fiction, young adult fiction, librarianship, and Black history.


This review and more like it in the August 2024 issue of Locus.

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